A Favourite Thing - My Feline Family (Cats in General)

Member Name: wiggglypufff

Product:	Cats in General
Date:	07/08/02 (188 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: A special friend

Disadvantages: Sharp claws

My childhood was okay, but there was always something missing. Whilst my friends had rabbits, cats, dogs, guinea pigs, hamsters and all other fluffy and adorable pets imaginable, I had Jaws. Now don't get me wrong I did love Jaws, and I'd spend hours watching him and talking to him but I couldn't pick him up and give him a cuddle, or stroke his fur [erm, because he didn't have any]. Yup, in case you hadn't guessed my first in fact only childhood pet was a goldfish.

My dad and sister suffered with hay fever and serious allergies to pet hair, so that meant a furry animal of any kind was out of the question at home. I couldn't 'pet sit' school animals for the holidays, I couldn't bring a lost kitten home and smuggle it under my bed.. I even had to be careful touching my friends pets as it could cause so many problems for my dad and sis.

I guess that's why I made up for it when I got a place of my own, and have had a total of 19 cats sharing my home at one time or another, 9 of which are still with me now :o)

We got Whiskey in October 1999, when he was 8 weeks old. He was a tiny bundle of ginger and white fluff, with razor sharp claws. Oooouch! I spent several months covered in scratches from finger to shoulder and toe to thigh. Not because he was an aggressive kitten, far from it, he was very affectionate, but very very playful too. His favourite trick at that young age was hiding, and then jumping on people - he'd cling for dear life to whatever part of the body he made contact with so you can add punctured hips to the injury list!

When he was about 4 months old, he became a little subdued. His toys no longer seemed to interest him, and he started to shy away from human attention. He was bored and unhappy. He was one of 5 kittens, and his separation from the litter, his mum, and extended family was seemingly taking it's toll. So, we decided it was time to get him a playmate.
r>Advised that bringing in another male could cause some massive territorial battles and possibly more misery than happiness, we embarked on a search for a suitably aged female playmate. First port of call was our local cat shelter, and although accepted to be 'adoptive parents' after paperwork galore and home assessment visits, we weren't suitable for those they had at that time. Many of the cats were old and needed quiet homes without other pets or children, so that ruled us out.

For several weeks we scoured the local paper making numerous phone calls only to be told all the kittens were sold already. Finally, we found one that hadn't gone. She was a similar age to Whiskey, so off we trekked to Essex to pick her up.

Maisey cost £35, but I'd have paid far more if needed. She was beautiful, but looked so frightened and in need of some love. Her current owner had shut her up in a cat carrier prior to our arrival so she couldn't run off. When he took her out she seemed uncomfortable being held by him. He didn't ask any questions of us, didn't seem to care about anything but the money, so we took her home. New home, new name, we called her Mocha.

Getting Mocha settled wasn't the easiest of things to do. She hid for days, and would lash out if Whiskey went near her. Of course being a male he was not deterred, and persisted in chasing her around day and night. They had the most horrendous fights, and it was a miracle neither got hurt. We didn't dare leave them alone for long, so kept a pretty much 24/7 vigil for a week. We were contemplating admitting defeat and re-housing Mocha, but it was almost as if they realised that. They started to accept each other, share the food bowl, wash each other lovingly, and curl up together and fall asleep. Awwwwwww :o)

Well maybe we should have kept them apart, as in the June of 2000 came Cookie, Smudge, Fudge, Tom, and Pooh. Whilst Mocha, quite effortlessly,
gave birth Whiskey played the proud dad helping out by washing both mum and the kittens. It was a beautiful site to see. Mocha took to her maternal role very well, and we soon enough had 5 healthy bundles of fluff running round causing chaos. I would've been quite happy to keep all 5 little 'uns, but hubby wasn't so keen so we asked around amongst friends; Tom and Pooh went to a workmate of mine. Cookie Smudge and Fudge managed to win hubby over, and were accepted as permanent family members. The kittens kind of adopted us, with Cookie very much owning Philip, Smudge taking to Paul, and Fudge accepting me.

Given that we now had 5 felines, when much loved as they were we hadn't intended on having that many quite so soon, Whiskey was 'done'. But, Smudge and Fudge grew quite quickly into randy young boys, and in June of 2001 Cookie's belly was the size of a bowling ball. Again, hubby was apprehensive, and I was quite excited. But before Cookie gave us a further extended family, we came upon Shadow.

Hubby found her in a barn, hiding in a classic car he was looking at. She was snuggled up to who we presumed to be her mother and had sadly died. The car owner knew nothing of the cats, only that he'd seen the mum in her pregnant state some 8 weeks ago, and as far as he knew she didn't belong to anyone. So, we took her in.

She was a tiny little bundle of black fluff, with big green eyes. She didn't seem too bothered by our tribe, and stood her ground with some fearful hisses if they came too close. I expect that was the only thing she knew how to do. She ate and drank, but of course toilet training wasn't something she had any knowledge of. During her first night I was checking on her hourly to make sure she was okay, and in the small hours I found her huddled up on a carrier bag soaked to the skin - she'd wet herself. So, I washed and dried her, and set her down on a towel outside our bedroom door w
here she stayed all night.

Shadow was a very mischievous kitten. Probably due to her first few weeks of life she preferred darkness and her colouring helped her remain unseen. She'd sit under or behind the chair by the doorway and pounce on whoever walked by - human or animal, it was her favourite game for some weeks. She remained quite aggressive toward the other cats for a while, hissing if they tried to approach her, but took very well to human contact.

As if we didn't have our hands full enough, Cookie gave birth to 4 kittens, giving us a grand total of 10 feline friends. She didn't take to motherhood very well though, and Mocha would wash and sit with the kittens but she of course couldn't feed them. Cookie would settle with them sometimes, but not for long. At just a few days old, the kittens were getting weaker rather than stronger and with one decidedly smaller than the others we started the battle to help them survive. Sadly, we lost the little 'un at 10 days old. He didn't have the strength to pull through, and he died as I held him after an early morning feed. I was thankful that I was holding him when he lost his fight, and that he hadn't been alone, but I also felt I'd let him down... we named him Ice, and said our goodbyes in the back garden later that day.

Cookie took it badly too - although motherhood wasn't her thing, she knew she'd had 4 babies and couldn't understand why now she only had 3. That made me all the more determined to get the remaining 3 out of danger, and between myself and hubby we kept up 24/7 care for several weeks, finally winning and getting the 3 little sisters eating by themselves and to a healthy size. We didn't name them, as our original intention had been to re-home them when they were well enough, but their health took a bad turn again and they developed flu.

None of the others showed any signs of illness, and we presume it was shadow who
brought in the flu virus, but it wasn't the time or of any benefit to apportion blame, simply the time to start fighting for them again. Antibiotics twice daily, and eye drops 4 hourly became the routine for a week. Two of the kittens made good progress quite quickly, but the littlest of the trio took her time, and another trip to the vets saw a further course of antibiotics and fluid injections as she was de-hydrating. It was touch and go with her for a while; we were warned that if she didn't shake off the flu it'd be kindest to put her to sleep.

I can't express my relief when she trotted down the hallway after finally being given the all clear from the vet. She was nicknamed Bunny Rabbit [as she had a tendency to hop rather than run], and her sisters were named Podge [she'd always been the biggest] and Smokey [due to her silver/grey patches]. There was no way I was parting with them after such a battle to keep them alive, and hubby didn't take much persuading this time either :o)

Once again, we were adopted by these little ones; Bunny chose me, Podge chose Philip and Smokey chose Paul.

With 9 cats, we decided it was best to ensure our family grew no more, so Smudge and Fudge were booked in to be 'done'. Hubby took them off to the vet, and came back again with Fudge - he had a temperature, so couldn't safely be operated on. On the next occasion the same thing happened - he was getting too stressed, resulting in a temperature and no op. Soon after that he developed a urinary tract infection, which thankfully he recovered quite quickly from, but it meant the operation was again out of the question for a while. 2 litters [7 kittens] later, we finally managed to get him done.

Our local vet, quite familiar with us now after our many visits, helped seek homes for the new arrivals, and we did eventually get homes for them all. In fact the vet herself took 2, although I think if her children had th
eir way she'd have ended up with all 7!

We've not had any illness for near on a year now. Bunny had to go the vets a while back when an over keen play session saw her lose a patch of fur, but a course of antibiotics and a twice daily anti-bacterial wash healed the raw skin in a week. Other than that, thankfully they've all been fine.

The 9 of them get on remarkably well, and apart from the odd fight over a favourite sleeping place or toy, they have few fallings out. As for our relationships with them, the bonds made in kitten-hood have stuck strong. Whilst Whiskey Mocha and Shadow remain somewhat impartial and will demand attention whenever they want from whoever they want, Cookie and Podge still adore Philip and make a beeline for him when he comes in from school or play. Smudge and Smokey love their ?dad? and although not overly affectionate cats they?ll seek Paul first for their needs. Fudge and Bunny are my babies - Fudge spends many an hour wrapping himself around my legs, and Bunny lazes on my monitor, keeping a sleepy eye on me.

The good times have far outweighed the bad, and I can't imagine my home without my cats, but taking on a cat isn't something you should do on a whim. Although pretty independent animals, that doesn't mean life is always easy with 'em.

Non-pedigrees [or moggies as they're often referred to] are less prone to ailment than a lot of breeds and want for little specific care. It's not uncommon for them to sleep up to 16 hours a day or go out for days on end. But equally, due to the unknown backgrounds they have few set behaviours or traits that you can put a finger on so each is an individual and therefore can be somewhat unpredictable.

As with all pets, cost is a major consideration too. Remember that food, litter, and toys are just the tip of the iceberg. Vaccinations, neutering/spaying, and flee and worm treatments don't come cheap, and in event
of injury/illness trips to the vet can add up to large amounts of money. You'll also need to think in terms of care costs should you be a regular holiday taker. I'm lucky - my mum lives close enough to stop in on my cats everyday if we go away, but if you don't have the luxury of a free cat-sitter you may find the cattery costs almost as much as your hotel does.

Just think carefully before you take on a cat [or any pet for that matter]. Those cute and fluffy little bundles of fur will turn your life upside down!

At the end of the day, having a cat is an eventful but very rewarding experience. When he/she is using the table leg as a scratch post, chewing on your shoelaces, ripping the Argos catalogue to shreds or clawing on your bedroom door at 3am you may just wonder what you've taken on. But when he/she is sitting on your lap or laying at your feet purring contentedly you'll know you've got a very special friend.

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I'd been meaning to write an op along these lines for a while - sometimes, you're prompted by a special someone, a happy occasion, or a meaningful event. In this case, all reasons apply...

"Jill Murphy asked me to write about one of my favourite things to help her celebrate her fourth anniversary of cancer-free living and to remind ourselves of all the nice things in the world. It takes more muscles to make a frown than a smile you know. If you'd like to join in, whether you've only just joined dooyoo, or you've been here ages, you're more than welcome. Just write about one of YOUR favourite things, make your title "A Favourite Thing: [your choice]" and include this paragraph at the foot of your opinion. And post before Friday, 9th August."